Page 10 of Stalked By the Doctor

I usher her into my sleek black sedan, her scent enveloping me as she slides into the seat beside me. I clench the steering wheel to stop myself from reaching for her, my knuckles turning white with the effort.

We make light conversation on the drive to my house, a modern architectural masterpiece perched on the outskirts of the city. I lead her up the winding path to my front door, hyperaware of how close she walks beside me.

Over dinner, I maintain a veneer of professionalism. But it's a constant struggle not to stare at the graceful line of her neck as she eats, not to reach out and caress the soft curve of her cheek. I yearn to possess her, body and soul.

"The food is delicious," she says, her eyes meeting mine for a fleeting moment.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," I say evenly. My restraint is hanging by a thread as sharp as a scalpel's edge.

We continue our desultory conversation, but the tension is almost palpable. Every word, every gesture is layered with hidden meaning.

After dinner, I escort Britney back to her apartment, ensuring her safety and maintaining a respectful distance.

The chill night air does little to cool my fevered thoughts, though. I can still taste Britney on my lips, feel the warmth of her body pressed against mine.

At her apartment door, she turns to me. "Thank you for dinner. I had a lovely time."

"The pleasure was mine." I take her hand and brush my lips across her knuckles, watching her pupils dilate. "Sleep well, Britney."

I wait until she's safely inside before I return to my car, my strides fueled by restless energy. The beast within me is stirring, clawing to break free of its chains. I hurry home, intent on my mission.

Back in my study, I activate the hidden cameras. Britney moves through the range of the lenses, a goddess in my private heaven.

She kicks off her heels and stretches like a cat, revealing a strip of smooth skin above her skirt. I groan, heat pooling in my abdomen.

When she undresses for bed, I catch a glimpse of lace and silk undergarments in dove gray, the color of her eyes. The thought sends a spear of lust through me.

Britney slips between the sheets, her golden hair fanning across the pillow.

Finally, I can stand it no longer. I jerk my cock free of my pants and imagine...

I pull her into my arms and crush my lips against hers. She opens her mouth with a soft sigh, her hands twining in my hair.

Our kiss deepens, fueled by months of pent-up desire. I back her against the wall, pinning her in place. She moans, the sound vibrating against my lips. I can no longer tell where she ends and I begin. We are two souls fused into one.

I break away, breathless. Britney looks up at me, her eyes dark with longing.

"Call me Paul," I whisper.

"Paul," she echoes, and my name on her lips sounds sweeter than any symphony.

Our fate is sealed. She is mine, now and forever.

"Fuck, baby. Do you know how long I've wanted to get inside this pretty little fuck hole? Bet that little virgin cunt is dripping for me, isn't it?"

She moans. "I've been saving it all for you, Paul. All for you."

I fall to my knees, her pussy coming into view.

And then I nut. I can never get past the imagined image of her pussy without coming. Jesus, if I can't even imagine her young cunt without coming, I don't know how I'd ever even get it inside her without busting.

I hold my messy cock in my hand and stare at her on the screen. Her pink lips are parted in sleep. She looks so cherubic.

So motherfuckinginnocent.

This girl will be the death of me.

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